


The Collection

by berserkishard



Category: The Collector Series (Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Amputation, Blackmail, Blood and Torture, Body Horror, Cages, Captives, Chains, Cruelty, Dog Fighting, Dogs, F/M, Held Down, Horror, Kidnapping, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mind Manipulation, Murder, Objectification, Predator/Prey, Psychopath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Sacrifice, Sexual Slavery, Submissive Character, Torture, angry Arkin, held captive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berserkishard/pseuds/berserkishard
Summary: When Arkin is thrown into the chest in the back of the van he knows he is fucked.When he gets thrown on top of a medical table by the psychopath holding a scalpel to his throat he is absolutely fucking sure he won't get out of this one.And he is right. The Collector will make sure to show Arkin just how fucked he is.
Relationships: The Collector (Collector Series)/Original Character(s), The Collector (Collector Series)/Original Male Character(s), The Collector/Arkin O'Brien
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	1. Collected

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little try to write about my favorite characters!  
I love the movies and the ending of the first one, please note that I am german and not a native english speaker!:)  
I hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> EDIT: If anyone is interested, I just created a Tumblr so if you want to give me any suggestions for my stories, please let me know! :) it's berserk-is-hard! :)

He liked the rain. To him, it had always brought a certain kind of quietness to the world, had cleansed it from the filthy vermin that crawled upon it. As he drove through the night he listened to the patter of rain against the roof of his car.

Then he heard a thud coming from the back of the car, someone was beating against wood.

The little thief was fighting again. Trying to free himself from the chest he had been forced into.

He would make sure to beat that out of him. First he would find out who the man was and what had brought him inside that house, what had made possible that a low thief like him could interfere with him.

It had been perfect, like always, all his traps constructed perfectly, all he had to do was play with them. But the thief had taken his biggest price from him, the little girl. He had had plans with the girl, thought out plans. He had planned to make her another piece of his collection. But then the thief had taken her from him. He would pay for that, would pay for attacking him, for fighting him, for hurting him. He still felt the pain of the wounds the knifes had torn into him. He would show him exactly who he had messed with, would pay that pain back ten fold.

He heard the little thief scream inside the chest, cursing him. Threatening him to fight him like a real man, taunting him to try beating him in a fair fight.

The corner of his lips twitched, he had almost felt inclined to smile at that.

He had never been a fair man but he had always been a man who knew what he wanted. And right now he wanted to break the little thief in the back of his car. His toes curled when he thought about the screams the man had let out when he had pulled him out of the ambulance, how he had fought and tried to escape from him. It had excited him, made him want to do more to the man, to make him submissive, break him into line. He still thought about the girl, about what he had planned to do to her. Well, now he had someone else to fill into that gap, someone who would fight it. Someone that deserved pain and everything else he had coming for him.

Arkin knew he was fucked, had known it when the ambulance had been hit and flipped over. In a wild hopeful second he had thought, wished, that it just had been a normal accident, that the driver hadn’t watched out for a second.

But then he had heard footsteps, had felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, instincts telling him to run, as far away as possible. He had trashed in his bindings, blood pumping through his body, too loud in his ears. He had screamed, trying to wake the other man in the ambulance up. But he had already known that it was over, that the man didn’t stand the slightest chance against the monster that was coming.

He had watched the knife sink into the throat of the man, making him panic. Then he had been cut off from his bindings, pulled out of the ambulance and thrown onto the flooded ground. He had tried to get away, had known that if the man succeeded in putting him into his car it was over. He had tried to fight him and had received a crushing hit into his face, rendering him quiet for a moment. Then he had been thrown into the chest, his hand being crushed by it when the mad man had closed it. He had screamed, knowing that he was fucked.

Now he was still screaming, holding his hand, trying to ignore the stabbing pain of every wound on his body.

Panic coursed through him, adrenaline making his body shiver and mind scream. He had to get out, he had to get to his family. He had been so close, so close to saving them. He needed to get out and bring the diamond to them. Then the car came to a halt, the doors in the front opening and closing with a thud, footsteps approaching him.

Maybe this was it, maybe the man would just throw him into some grave in the woods and get it over with. Arkin almost grinned, to die like that would somehow fit to this whole fucked up situation. But somehow he doubted that it would end like that, he had seen the traps, how the psychopath had played with the family. Had it not been for him he would have taken the little girl and Arkin didn’t even want to think about what the mad man would have done to her. He was certain that the man would want payback for what Arkin had done to him, that he had freed the girl from his grasp, interfered with his plans.

The doors in the back of the car opened, and then the chest he was in was being moved. He grunted as it was thrown onto the ground, his head throbbing in response. Then it was being dragged of to somewhere. He screamed, his heart racing.

Suddenly the movements came to a halt, the chest was dropped to the ground and footsteps could be heard moving away from it. Arkin breathed, forcing himself to stop screaming, to close his eyes for a second. He had to calm down. Screaming would not change anything about this. It would just satisfy the sick bastard. He calmed himself down, the pain from his hand and back and every other body part slowly decreasing. He breathed out, his eyes fluttering shut.

_Calm down, Arkin, and think. Panic won’t help you, maybe thinking will. _

Alright.

What did he know?

First: The man was absofuckinglutely a crazy fucking psychopath that tortured people.

So good so far. What else?

Second: He had wanted to take the family in the house with him, had planned to take the little girl with him. He had enjoyed torturing them, playing with them. To him, it all had been a fun little game where only he could win. But then Arkin had joined in, and suddenly the game hadn’t been as easy. That had made the man angry, as far as Arkin could see. The man liked to be in control, which probably was an understatement. He liked to hurt people, not only men and women but also little girls.

He needed to find something, something that would help him figure the bastard out, to gain some kind of control over the psychopath. If not he would just be another plaything to the man.

_Is that all you got you fucking faggot?!_

_Is that all you got you little fucking faggot bitch?_

He had screamed this at the man, trying to get him away from Hannah, hiding underneath the table. In that moment he would have screamed anything at all at the man to get him to away from Hannah, but now when he thought about it. He had been angry at being called a faggot. Of course no one really liked that, but in that situation the man could as well just have brushed it off, just as something his hurting captive was screaming at him to insult him. But there had been real anger in those black eyes, he had wanted to hurt him to make him pay for his insults.

Maybe Arkin could use that. 

Suddenly light flooded through to him, his chest was opened and adrenaline coursed through him. He wanted to jump into action but was pushed down. He looked up at the man that was still wearing his mask, black eyes shining down at him. He growled at him, wanting to rip that fucking mask off and tear out those eyes. Then a fist crashed into his face, rendering him motionless for a second. The man used that second to pull him out of the chest and throw him onto a table. When Arkin realized what was going on it was already too late. The man was tying his hands and feet down before he could fight it. When he was done all Arkin could do was lay there and stare up at the masked man. 

His head swam from all the blows he had gotten to it. He realized that the man was staring back at him, almost as if he was expecting something from him. 

He looked around trying to get away from the man’s gaze. He was inside what seemed like a run down medical room, on an examination table. He still saw the chest on the floor in the corner of the room and a trail of blood running from it to where he was bound. Then something else catched his attention. Someone other than the psychopath that had brought him here was inside the room. There was a thin boy standing at the door, scratching at his arm. Aside from a few cuts on his body the boy looked fine. The boy was almost naked safe for his boxer briefs and a bag. Arkin stared at him, trying to meet his gaze but the boy didn’t look at him for even a second. The psychopath held an arm out to the boy and faster than Arkin would have thought the boy reacted. He dropped instantly down to his knees and crawled over to the masked man, eyes cast down to the ground. Then he pressed his face to the ground and stayed in that position. 

The masked man looked down at the boy and then back at Arkin. Arkin had watched the boy crawl and hat managed to snatch a short look at the face of him. Instantly he had known what the boy was. He was a tool of the man beside him, he wasn’t human anymore, all that had made him an individual had been forced out of him. Arkin could not expect help from the boy. He hid his realization, maybe it would somehow benefit him in the future. 

Then the man pointed at the boy bowing to him on the floor and back to Arkin. Arkin’s blood froze, it was clear what the man wanted to tell him. He too would be made into this, a toy to the man, obeying his every whim. Then the black clad man lifted his boot and brought it down to the floor again. The boy reacted instantly and took something out the bag that he wore, presenting it to the man above him. It reflected the light of the operating lights and when the man took it from the hands of the boy Arkin could see that it was a scalpel. His eyes widened. The boy was allowed to carry that with him? Was the man so sure that the boy wouldn’t use it against him? 

Then Arkin forgot the boy when the man turned around to him, scalpel in his hand. He could swear that the man smiled underneath the mask, cold eyes glinting. Arkin could hear his heart beat louder than ever before, the multiple wounds on his body hurting more than before. Then the scalpel was brought to his throat, Arkin forgetting to breath, staring at the sharp object in the hands of a psychopath all too close to his throat. But then the man took the hem of his bloodied shirt and started cutting it off, pulling it off of him. His bare skin connected to the cold metal of the table, creating shivers on it when the fabric was ripped away from beneath him and thrown to the floor. He grit his teeth, the pain and coldness slowly getting to him. He realized he was tired when the psychopath moved on to his pants. Slowly his eyes slipped close, even when his mind screamed at him to stay awake. But somehow he couldn’t, he just couldn’t stay awake anymore.

He slipped into darkness when he felt fabric tearing around his legs.   


He had watched the little thief slip away into unconsciousness, had expected it at some point. The multiple blows to the head had to show their effects at one point. He continued to cut the filthy black pants off the thief and pulled them away. All that was left was the man’s boxers, but he wanted him awake for that part. Then he just stared at his newest project. The man was handsome, he would give him that and the body that was now revealed was muscled and strong. It was something different to his other objects, not as frail as some of them. They always broke too soon. Just like the thing on the floor. He gripped the thief’s head staring down at him. He would have fun with that one, far more fun than with multiple other’s he had before. His eyes wandered down the man’s body, staying on the man’s covered private parts. He raised a brow behind the mask as he felt hunger rise up inside him at the sight of the man’s outlines of his limp penis underneath the boxer shorts. 

It was rare that he felt any sexual desire at all, especially for a feisty man as this. Normally he liked them submissive, weak. But somehow everything was different with this man. He pulled the glove on his right hand off and brought his hand down on the man’s briefs. He let his fingers slide over the limp penis, noting the length of it even unaroused. Then he let them wander down to the man’s balls, cupping them inside his hand. Something stirred inside him, heat washing through him. It had been years since he had felt something like this, such desire. 

Then he shook his head. The man needed to understand what situation he had gotten himself into and for that he needed to see and feel what the Collector could do. He released the bindings that kept the man secured to the medical table and carried him through the room towards the door. He sidestepped the traps he had planted everywhere along the corridor and carried him towards the room where his more submissive pets were kept. They would show him what was expected of him, how to survive in this world the Collector had created, how to please him. When he entered, he could smell the fear of the inhabitants, but also the  complete submissiveness emitting from their postures. He had picked these pieces especially to satisfy him, to obey him. They were meant to bow down to him, show his power. And the thief would see that written on their faces, how they behaved around him and maybe learn from them. 

He placed the man inside a cage in the room, attaching a chain to his ankle. Then he locked the cage, sparing a glance at the other inhabitants of the room. They shivered beneath his gaze, curling in on themselves, trying to make themselves small. They would do anything he wants them to do, he had made sure of that in the first stages of their capture. Now there was nothing else they wanted to do than satisfy him. They crawled beneath his feet, lower than dirt. He pulled up his mask and spit on the floor, then he moved his head a little, a sign for the toys. At once all of them crawled to the spot where he had spat, tongues out, trying to get a little of the spit. He didn’t stay to watch them, he had more important things to to, like finding out every little detail about his newest project, the little thief. 

But something told him already, that it wouldn’t be as easy as with the others. That the man would fight him, would spit on him and his rules. 

But that didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he was here with him, inside a cage, unable to escape or run. 

He would make sure to have his fun with the little thief. 


	2. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains rape!

Something wasn’t right. Arkin felt as if he was drowning, pain shooting through his body. His eyes flew open when the memories came back. He remembered the psychopath and the boy, the sick feeling he had had at the sight of him. He remembered how the man had touched him, just moments before he had passed out. How he had cut off his clothes, his eyes shining with lust. Arkin had never been presented with such a strong feeling of someone else for him, he had only ever had Lisa. He felt the fingers of the madman on him, tracing his body. He opened his eyes even when he knew that he wouldn’t like what he would see. And he was right. He was inside a small cage, the room he was in too dark to make out anything else. He felt something around his throat, almost too tight to breathe and noticed it was a collar.

Instantly he searched for a key hole, set on breaking out of this damn cage and escape the psychopath that had put him inside it. He wouldn’t let himself be frightened by the man, he had seen the way the masked madman had looked at him, the hunger inside those cruel eyes. He felt for something inside the cage, something he could use to unlock the collar. He found nothing, he would have to wait for some more light. He heard a sound next to him and froze, someone else was inside the room with him. Only now the smell managed to get to his brain and he instantly wanted to vomit. He had never smelled something so disgusting in his life like right now. The room smelt of piss and fear, a mixture of blood and waste, it was a smell so cruel and frightening he felt fear rise up inside him. He tried to scramble back to the other end of the cage but was forced to stay in the middle of it because of the chain on his collar.

He sneered, he was fucking angry right now, ready to fight the other man, ready to kill him. He knew that when it came down to it that he would, he would throw himself onto the other man and rip his throat out, either with his hands or his teeth. He had learned in prison that he was no one that just gave in or up, he would fight this bastard and it didn’t matter what the man would do to him.

He smelled the piss inside the room, heard bodies moving, crawling around. There were probably more people like him, kept inside cages, waiting for the sick bastard to play with them. But it also meant more people that could fight the man and kill him. 

He froze when he heard the sound of a door opening and felt the air inside the room change. He could practically smell the fear of the other inhabitants rise up at the sight of their torturer. He himself felt nothing but rage. Footsteps came closer and halted in front of his cage, figured that the man would want to play with him and no one else in the room, that was just his luck. He stared up into the darkness, knowing that the man was staring down at him. He didn’t see anything, but something told him that the man could. He had noticed the murderer’s strange eyes when he had kept him in the basement that one time, forcing roaches to bite their way into his skin.

He had thought about why they were like that, but maybe they had been altered so that the man could see in the dark. Arkin shuddered, suddenly feeling cold. He realized now that he was only dressed in his boxer briefs and remembered the way the psychopath had enjoyed cutting his clothes off. Suddenly his neck was pulled to the front of the cage, the chain on the collar he was wearing being pulled by the madman. He gasped, trying not to choke when the already tight collar cut off his air supply. He clawed at it, trying to get some air into his lungs when the door to the cage opened and he was being pulled out of it by the chain on his collar. He was thrown to the floor and he gasped when he finally could breathe again, his brain too fuzzy to catch up with all the sensations he was feeling right now. The pain of being thrown to the ground only now registering to him, he tried to get on his feet. They were kicked out from under him and he was left falling hard on the ground, the pain shooting up instantly. He groaned and stilled for a moment, but had no time to rest when the chain on his collar was pulled again and he was dragged further into the dark room.

He tried to fight it all the way but was forced to move along when his throat was chocked again by the chain. Finally the other man stopped and before Arkin could even breathe in he was slammed on top of a surface, his hands and feet getting chained to it. He screamed, frustrated and angry that he hadn’t been able to even land a punch on the psychopath.

“You fucking prick, you fucking bitch, I will fuck you up!”

He screamed at the other, spit flying through the darkness and he couldn’t even be sure that he was screaming in the right direction before suddenly the light was flickering on inside the room. He let out a small scream when the man was standing besides him, staring down at him and not where he had directed his scream. He wildly looked around, only now able to see where he was. He gasped when he saw hundreds of cages inside the room, with multiple persons inside them and all of them staring at him.

He looked to where he thought the door was and noticed it being a steel door. Then finally he stared at where he had thought the man would be and noticed the little boy that had been in the room a few hours back with them. He wore a look of total confusion and disgust at what was happening to him, not ready to accept the fact that he was at the mercy of a psychopath and his fucking pet.

“What is this fucked up shit man? Couldn’t you choose someone else as your fucked up servant? Or are you not able to control boys older than ten?”

He turned his head to stare up at the murderer, his anger directing at him now. The other man didn’t react to his words other than continuing to stare down at him. Then finally he moved to the right side of Arkin, holding out his hand to the small boy. The boy moved instantly, providing the psycho with a small knife.

For a moment Arkin wanted to close his eyes, imagining that he was somewhere else, far away with Lisa and his daughter, but then the knife moved over his body, not digging in deep enough to cut through his skin but nevertheless frightening in the hands of such a man.

“What do you fucking want from me man? Just get it over with and stop playing!”

He knew that he should sometimes refer from speaking out loud what he was thinking, but right now with his panic level that high it was impossible for him not to.

He wasn’t sure but he thought that the other man was smiling beneath his mask when a gloved finger wandered over his naked stomach, down towards his neither regions. He swallowed, regretting that he had screamed at the man. The finger slipped underneath his boxers, wandering along the outer fabric of it. He stared down at the hand moving dangerously close to his groin and then up at the man. He tried to figure out what the man wanted from him and could only see hunger inside the other man’s eyes.

Oh shit. So he had been right back then in the basement. The other was in fact a faggot, maybe that had been why he had gotten so angry when he called him one.

And now all that lust was directed at him. Arkin was literally so fucked.

He shivered when he thought about what was happening to him, not only was he kept like a dog inside a cage, a fucking collar around his throat but he also was felt up by a fucking murdering psychopath that had apparently a thing for him. He swallowed and let his head fall down onto the table. He was too fucking tired for his shit. His eyes shot wide open when his dick was grabbed throgh the fabric suddenly, the panic of it being inside the hands of a psychopath waking his tired mind up in no time. He stared at the other, trying to find out what the man planned to do to him.

He was being squeezed tighter and tears started to collect inside his eyes. He groaned and let his head fall to the side, eyes landing on the little boy. He tried to squirm inside his bindings, wishing for this all just to stop. Why was this happening to him? All he had wanted was to free his family from debt. For a second he was wondering about the boy, where there parents that missed their little son? Thinking that he was dead somewhere? Is attention was torn back to the other man when he felt fabric being cut, watching as his boxers were cut away from his body. He groaned and let his head fall down on the table, the pain diverting his attention.

Again the other gripped his dick to make sure he was paying attention to what he was doing to him and he was forced to watch as he lost his last piece of clothing.

“Fuck man, what do you want from me? Don’t you have enough fucking people to play with already?”

He stared at the other, not really expecting an answer. And he didn’t get one other than two strong hands pulling his legs apart.

_Nononono, fuck no! This just can’t be fucking happening!_

“No man, don’t fucking do this! Fuck you! You are fucking disgusting, fucking faggot! I was right about that one, you fucking little shit!”

He knew that it probably wasn’t the smartest thing he had ever done, screaming and insulting the man that could do practically anything to him right now, but he also was so fucking angry right now. Still his words weren’t changing anything and his legs were spread even further. He fought against it, trying to close them again, but he was no match to the other man’s strength. Then, a gloved hand stoke over his legs, up to where his most sensitive body parts were.

Arkin closed his eyes, wishing so fucking bad that this was all just a dream, a fucked up dream he was having, lying besides Lisa in their bed. When something was pushed against his asshole he knew that this was all to real. His eyes flew open when a finger was pressed into his asshole and he sneered at the other man, eyes spitting anger. “You are so fucking sad man, you can’t get it without forcing yourself on others? Are you that fucking miserable and ugly? Fucking bastard!”

It had always been his mouth that brought the most pain and trouble for him, it had always been the one thing he hadn’t been good at, keeping his thoughts to himself in situations like that where he felt fear and desperation. It had been the same in prison. But right now the situation was different, in prison he had just taken what had been done to him, knowing that some day it would be over, but right now something inside him rebelled at giving in, taking it quietly. He wanted to scream and fight, spit in the other’s face. He yanked at his chains, desperately wanting to get out of them. He moved in his bindings, trying to get the other man out of him. But nothing stopped the other man to getting even deeper into Arkin’s ass, moving his finger in and out, fucking the hole open.

He loved everything that was happening right now, the little thief writhing in his chains, trying desperately to get out, insulting him the whole time. It was different then all the other times, his victim once not crying and begging him to let him go but threatening and demanding. He had known that Arkin would be different, had felt that he would be a challenge. And he had been right, Arkin really knew how do deliver. He loved what he saw when he had finally cut away the boxers, Arkin’s dick not disappointing at all. He had looked the man up, had found out a lot about him, about his little wife, his child. He kept it to himself right now, but the time using those information would come soon enough. As enticing as it was to watch Arkin fight him like that, it would be as good as seeing him succumb, desperate to please him. 

He would use his wife and child to make the man grovel beneath his feet, just as he should. But right now he enjoyed playing with the angry man, loving every second of the angry man’s fighting against him. The asshole he was pushing in and out off was too dry to really stretch and he held out his other hand to the boy who promptly provided him with a tube of lube. He knew it would make the thief even angrier, not only being raped by a finger but being played with. He opened the tube, watching the other man’s expression change when he noticed what was happening and ignored the insults being spat at him. He grinned underneath his mask, he couldn’t remember a time where he had had so much fun raping a victim. He coated his gloved fingers with the lube and pushed two of them into the hole of the tied down man. He shivered at the scream that followed that action, feeling how he was growing hard underneath his trouser. The man was different than all his other victims, was appetizing in such a different way than all the other one’s he had that it was making him grow harder that he had in a long time. He locked eyes with the man beneath him, noticing that fear had entered the other man’s eyes, Arkin’s eyes.

He enjoyed every moment of this as he slowly zipped his trouser open, reaching inside to get his erect penis out. He smiled when he noticed Arkin’s eyes widening and desperation entering them.

“NO, don’t you FUCKING dare! I will kill you, I will fucking end you, you fucking disgusting piece of shit!”

He grew even harder at Arkin’s words, his dick leaking pre cum. He didn’t bother to prepare the other man further and just pulled the man closer to the end of the table he was lying on, the man helpless to stop him. Then when his ass was on the end of the table he guided his cock towards the other’s hole, his dick begging to sink into it. He ignored the screaming of Arkin, the rude words that were thrown at him, insults so crude he even learned a few new ones. Nothing helped the little thief as he pushed into his hole, his dick far too thick and long for the nearly unprepared and unused hole.

His eyes moved up when he felt the warmth around his cock, loving every second of taking the unruly man. This was heaven to him, better than anything he had had in the last months. He ignored the other’s screams when he pushed in even further, unbothered by the screams of pain and disgust. Arkin was his and he could do whatever he wanted to the other man, kill him, use him, torture him, make him beg and crawl beneath his feet. He would show the man who his master was, who he belonged to.

He grinned as he started fucking into the other, eyes raking over the body of the thief, muscles jumping beneath the skin, eyes closed for once, a painful look on the other’s face.

He leaned down, pressing even more into the other, enjoying the pained groan he was receiving for that.

He leaned down to Arkin’s ear, gripping the other’s hair inside his hand and pulling.

_“Who’s the faggot now, Arkin?”_


	3. Tainted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please watch out!  
If you don't like reading about an underage boy performing sexual related things please don't read!

Arkin was screaming. Never before had he felt such incredible pain. His insides were cramping, his ass hurting so fucking much with every thrust the madman made. He hated every second of this, wanted to rip the fucker that was doing that to him into pieces so bad. Prison had tried to break him, men trying to rape him in the shower, but he hadn’t let them. He had fought them with everything he had, had bitten and clawed his way out of that place. And now this fucker was raping him, taking from him what he had protected so hard. His dignity, his pride.

But still, he was not giving up. He knew exactly what the psychopath wanted, he wanted to turn him into an empty shell, break him and make him into something else. Something like the boy, crawling beneath his feet, obeying his every order, worshipping him.

He would rather die than do that.

He screamed again, this time not because of immense pain but incredible fury. This fucker thought he could break him, but he would be damned if he let that happen.

“You are the fucking faggot, bastard! Who’s raping who, huh? You think I’m enjoying myself right now?” He shouted at the other man, hate dripping from his words, voice rough and pain filled.

He grit his teeth when the man answered by fucking him even harder, his dick splitting Arkin’s ass open, enjoying how that seemed to shut the tied thief up. He continued fucking into the other man, thrusts so hard and fast the other was screaming out. He lifted his hand and slapped Arkin’s ass once, loving the way the already tight hole got even tighter because of the sudden shock. He groaned, finally giving in to the immense pleasure and came. He let his head fall back, enjoying the feeling of bliss coming over him when he emptied himself into Arkin’s ass. It was incredible how good Arkin’s ass felt, the combined feeling of breaking the other man down and even only the feeling of his ass was enough to give him the best orgasm he had had in a while.

He stilled for a moment, his spent dick still inside Arkin, his mind soothed for the moment. When he had taken Arkin with him he had known that the other would present a challenge and was in need of a lesson but he hadn’t thought that he would like teaching it that much. The feeling of fucking the stubborn man and destroying him was even better than chasing some of his most prized pieces, the thrill of it exciting him and making him lust for more. He let his head fall back down, staring at the abused man beneath him. Arkin was shivering, tights shaking and head turned to the side.

He could see how bad the thief was hurting, ass clenched around his dick. He loved the feeling of how it milked his spent dick, even involuntarily. He held his hand out to the boy and instantly was presented with a towel. He started to pull his dick out of Arkin’s tight hole, loving how it seemed that it didn’t want to let go of him. He let the towel wander over his dick, cleaning it, thinking about what he had to do to Arkin to make the man clean him with his tongue. He wanted that, his dick twitching at the thought. Then he stared at Arkin’s used ass, blood and cum leaking out of it.

He smiled beneath his mask, just like a whore. He decided not to clean that up, to let Arkin suffer for a bit, teach him to think about it before insulting him next time.

Then he mentioned to the boy again, knowing that he was understood without speaking.

The boy nodded, eyes cast to the ground, just like he had been taught. Then the Collector left, he had to find out what he could use to break Arkin. To make sure he wouldn’t bite his dick off when they tried even better things next time.

Arkin seethed. He let the boy feed him some soup and drank the water that was offered to him, but still wasn’t being untied. He knew that he wouldn’t probably be until the masked man returned, but it still felt degrading lying there, blood and cum dripping out of his hurting ass and the strange boy feeding him like an infant. Rage swirled through his veins and he thought about how he could escape this literal hell.

The boy would probably not be a solution, the Collector had left him with Arkin so he was sure that the boy wouldn’t betray his master. He had already seen that in the boy’s eyes, somehow they always tried to hide something. He knew that the Collector probably thought he would try persuading the boy to free him, but he knew from experience that people that had a look like the boy were already too far gone. He had seen some like him in prison and on the streets. Lost souls that would never return, too broken to repair. So he just lay there and ate the food, drank the water. He would not play the psychopath’s game, he would sit it out and escape himself. He didn’t need to waste his strength on the boy.

Somehow he only now remembered the other people inside the room and noticed one staring at him. It was a woman, naked and huddled into a corner, eyes hid behind her hair, but he still felt her gaze on him. Somehow she seemed different than the other inhabitants, somehow she still seemed sane. He stared at the ceiling, aware that the boy could also function as a informant for the psychopath and didn’t want to bring attention to the woman.

Then, after feeding Arkin, the boy left the room.

Slowly, waiting a minute before turning his head, he looked at the woman, trying to find out if he hadn’t fooled himself before. But no, the woman seemed, in fact, to be the only sane one in the room with him.

She stared back at him, crawling closer inside the cage she was in.

“I’m Arkin. Who are you?”

Her eyes dropped for a moment, she had jumped when he had addressed her. Then, after a few seconds, she answered. She whispered, voice so silent he almost thought he had imagined it. “I’m Molly.”

He nodded, his ears picking up the sound of silent footsteps. His eyes fell back to the ceiling and he heard the door to the room open again, the boy returning.

He didn’t acknowledge the boy’s presence until he felt small hands on his leg. He shuddered at the touch and lifted his head, staring down at where the small boy was standing. His heart froze for a second when he realized what the boy was holding inside his hand.

“NO! Don’t you fucking dare! You are not doing that! Whatever he will do to you if you disobey him, I will do worse! Don’t you fucking dare to put that inside me!!”

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing right now, the boy held a fucking butt plug inside his small hands, eyes set on Arkin’s abused hole. As if not even noticing Arkin screaming at him he let his fingers glide into Arkin’s bleeding hole and started scissoring it. Arkin screamed, throwing insults at the boy he hadn’t known he knew. But nothing stopped the other, and finally the plug was being pressed inside his torn hole.

He howled at the pain of being entered again, a tear fighting its way out of his eye. Then after pushing the thing even deeper the boy finally left him alone, stepping away from the thief.

Arkin screamed, his anger and frustration wanting to break out.

“I will end you both, you are so fucking dead.”

He could have sworn that something inside the boy’s eyes had changed from before, where he had stared at Arkin with cold detachment he was now staring at him as if seeing something interesting for the first time. Arkin grit his teeth, he could not deal with this right now, one fucking psychopath was enough for him, he didn’t need his fucking helper interested in him too.

He tried pushing the plug inside him out, eyes closed because of the immense pain his ass was in. But it didn’t change anything, the plug didn’t move one bit and the pain remained.

He groaned, absolutely hating everything that was happening right now.

He needed to get out, needed to kill those fucking psychos and get back to his wife and daughter.

His head fell to the side, eyes catching something moving besides him.

Molly.

There was still someone sane inside this hell with him. He was not fully alone yet. He still had a chance.

_So the little thief has a wife and daughter. _He watched the little girl swing back and forth on a swing on the playground, her mother watching her absentmindedly. The woman looked tired and frustrated, probably worrying for her husband. The Collector smirked, for once his mask not there to hide his expression. He was wearing his usual outfit for being outside, not on the hunt for new additions to his collection. He had investigated the little thief, had known right away that he would find something he could use to blackmail the man with.

He took his camera out and made a few photos of the two, imagining just taking them with him, adding them to his collection.

Arkin would do probably anything to ensure their safety, would crawl beneath his feet as he should. But for now he would try it with only the photos, maybe those would suffice in keeping Arkin in line.

He felt the urge to return to the hotel, knowing that Arkin was probably already scheming some escape plan. And he also wanted to see how the man looked with the butt plug inside him. He shivered slightly when he thought about how furious the man had to be, wondering if he had tried to convince the boy to help him.

But that would never happen, the boy was one of his most precious additions to his collection, trained to obey to perfection. The boy had even forgotten his own name, never mind his family. He only lived to aid the Collector, to help his master.

The boy had been far too easy for him, Arkin on the other hand would present a far more interesting challenge.

With that thought in mind he drove back to the abandoned hotel, as always careful not to be seen by anyone.

He entered, checking on all the traps and thinking about adding a few new ones. He couldn’t be too careless with Arkin around, he knew that the man had the ability to escape too many of his traps.

Then he checked on some of his other projects, feeding some of his better additions and taking others to feed them to his drug-filled dogs.

Then it was time to check on Arkin.

He walked towards the room he had left the man in, a feeling like excitement filling him when he thought about what Arkin would do and say when presented with the pictures of his wife and kid.

He entered the room, the usual smell of it entering his nostrils. Then his eyes fell on the examinations table that stood inside the room, eyes raking over the legs that hung over it. He got closer and noticed the butt plug inside Arkin’s ass, smirking at the sight of it. He followed the man’s body up towards the thief’s face, noticing that the man was asleep.

Perfect.

He made a motion and the boy moved towards Arkin, he had been waiting patiently for his master’s return, standing in a corner of the room, keeping watch over Arkin.

He took something out of his bag and handed it over to the Collector. The man felt the texture of the leather of it, for once not wearing his gloves. He smiled beneath his mask, always putting it on when entering the hotel, changing into the real him. Discarding the empty shell he presented to the outside world.

Then he laid it down next to Arkin, testing if it still worked. Buzzing could be heard when he pressed a button.

It was ready to be used again.

It was only meant for the most stubborn and valuable pieces of his collection, and had only been worn once before, and even then only to test it out. But now it would fulfill a real task, keeping Arkin in line. He placed a hand on Arkin’s thigh, close to his penis and the filled hole, watching the man slowly wake up. He grinned beneath the mask when he watched Arkin’s sleepy confusion change into recognition and anger. Real anger, without any trace of fear inside his eyes. That would have to change.

He ignored the little thief’s angry insults and wandered around the table, picking the electric collar up again, presenting it to Arkin. He smiled at the confused stare he received, then proceeded to fit it around Arkin’s throat.

Arkin trashed inside his bindings, sleep completely forgotten as he was presented with a murderous psychopath trying to put a collar on him. He screamed insults at the other man, not wanting to wear shit like that, reducing him to something like a dog in the other man’s eyes. He screamed so loud his voice gave out but he didn’t fucking care. All of the fucked up people inside their cages should hear him, should see that he didn’t want this, wasn’t bowing down to the psychopath.

He had known instantly that the other man had put him inside this room to show him how his other pets were treating him, how they groveled beneath his feet, humanity forgotten, not more than animals. He had looked around for someone like Molly, but he hadn’t seen any resemblance to a sane soul inside their eyes, only fear and madness.

With his useless fighting against his bindings and his screaming he showed them that he wasn’t like them, was not ready to just let the other man do anything he wanted to him, just like to an animal.

No, he would fight, whatever the other man would throw at him.

He trashed inside his bindings, wildly throwing his head around, trying to escape the Collector’s hands.

“Fuck you! I am not your dog, you fucked up psycho!”

He didn’t even think about what he was screaming at the other man, he just knew that he wanted the other far away from him and that he would take the collar with him. He stared at the man looming above him, trying to show him exactly how ready he was to fight him.

His eyes followed a movement the other made, a finger being held in front of the mask where his mouth was concealed beneath. Then the other held something up, showing it to Arkin.

Instantly Arkin stopped moving, heart thumping inside his chest, blood running cold.

No fucking way.

He was staring at a picture of his daughter on a swing, his sweet, innocent daughter. Then the other man pushed a button on the camera he was holding and showed Arkin another picture. His wife. His heart shattered a little bit at the way she looked, tired and sad.

The camera was taken away and he felt a tear leave his eye, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

He was literally so fucked right now. The psycho could do with him whatever he wanted, sure that Arkin would do anything to protect his family.

With a new glint inside his eyes the Collector held the collar up again, mockingly presenting Arkin with the cruel thing. Arkin shivered at the way the other man stared at him, at the lust that was apparent in his strange eyes. He gritted his teeth and had to close his eyes for a moment, not yet ready for what was about to come.

For the first time in his life he would give in to someone. Even if it meant protecting his family, it still stung.

But he had to do it, had to play along with the sick psychopath’s game. He opened his eyes again, trying to relax his body on the exam table, the fight seeping out of his body. He thought he had heard the other man chuckle behind the mask and disgust rose up inside him. Then he felt the fabric of the collar on his throat, gritting his teeth when it was pulled tight around it, already knowing he would hate wearing it so much.

He felt two things press even more into the skin than the fabric itself and instantly knew what the Collector was planning. A fucking shock collar.

The thing was not only meant to reduce him to an animal but also make sure he was obeying the other man. He didn’t even want to think about what horrors such a device could bring in the hands of a psychopath like the man above him.

He knew that the other didn’t usual even need something like a shock collar, perfectly able to train his pieces even without something like that. He had seen the people inside the cages, none of them wearing something like that.

Apparently he was just special like that.

He bared his teeth, staring up at the other man, wild fury curling inside his stomach.

No way he was just giving up like that. Whatever the fucker would do to him, he would repay him twice the pain and humiliation he had forced him to endure.

_Come on you sick fuck, show me your worst!_


End file.
